


Darning

by Cheloya



Series: Knife Party [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Gen, Mercy Street RP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-10-27 06:52:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10804014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheloya/pseuds/Cheloya
Summary: Old, imported. Mayuri arranges things according to his needs.





	Darning

Mayuri didn't see Hanatarou on his last day at St. Camillo's - he'd worked twenty-five hours straight the previous day, and had therefore spent the boy's last day getting some well-deserved sleep. It hadn't even occurred to Mayuri that this would be a problem - he had known for months that the internship was coming to an end, and that Yamada would undoubtedly be going back to that miserable little clinic on Mercy Street instead of staying on and making a decent living with his skills. And so, while working without him the following day was certainly not as easy as Mayuri had, with such a reliable extra, become accustomed to, it was not until he found the time to return to his office, and his in-tray, that the realisation of how difficult it would be began to really set in.  
  
Sitting beside the in-tray was a bottle of wine, and a fruit basket. _A small token of appreciation_ , he'd expected the card to say, but what it actually said - in Yamada's typically neat-but-ink-blotched script - was, _Thankyou very much for all your time and effort, Doctor Kurotsuchi._ There were a few lines after that - blather about how helpful Mayuri had been, and how much Yamada had learned from him - but those were the ones that stuck in his mind.  
  
On top of the in-tray was information about a new intern, who would be starting work with Mayuri on the following Monday. The doctor snorted, and suspected Yamada had given an unfairly glowing report of Mayuri's teaching methods, and that it would only take a month, at best, before the new student was begging for a transfer.  
  
That was the only reason, he told himself blithely, that he found it prudent to give Yamada one last call.  
  
It was from his home office, not the hospital line, and perhaps that was why Yamada answered his cell with a cautious, "...Hello?" instead of his usual frantic worry that something had gone wrong with one of his patients.  
  
"You forgot to leave your resume," Mayuri drawled, yellow eyes flitting over, but not really reading, the report before him. There was a pause.  
  
"Doctor Kurotsuchi?" The boy sounded confused. "Well... no, I... Doctor Unohana is always looking for extra hands, and... there wasn't... was I meant to?" The last was guilty - the boy always suspected he'd done something wrong accidentally, even if there was no reason for him to believe so. Mayuri sighed, impatiently.  
  
"If you think I'm letting you waste your life in a no-name clinic, treating scraped knees and chicken pox," he said, "you have a nasty shock ahead of you."  
  
And, before Yamada could collect himself enough to form a response, "Do you have a fax machine?"  
  
Knowing better, after two years, than to waste time with the startled question that must have been on the tip of his tongue, Yamada's response was, instead, "...yes? I mean, I can, there's one I can use?"  
  
"This is my fax number." Mayuri dictated it to him briskly, ignoring the soft yelp and the sounds of the younger man scrambling for a pen. He had a good memory for these things, Mayuri had learned. "If you're determined, we can work around your schedule at that... clinic. I want that resume by Monday so we can process you properly."  
  
And, ignoring the small sounds of _yes, but, I,_ that Yamada was emitting, Mayuri hung up, feeling rather more satisfied than a simple phone call should account for. With luck, by Monday's end, the new intern would be in tears, Yamada would be re-hired, and Mayuri wouldn't have to endure looking at that ridiculous little fruit basket just because Yamada had failed to consider that he mightn't like pears.


End file.
